


Dare You

by kronette



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the jam_pony_fic contest, using prompt Sketch has to beat Alec in a pool game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare You

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 20 August 2006 @ 11:06 pm

He stayed back in the shadows, watching the action. He cataloged movement, followed trajectories and watched for tells. He didn’t exactly need the cash, not at this moment, anyway, but it was good practice. He had to keep sharp, had to keep his skills, lest they wither away. And a withered Alec was just not something he could ever contemplate. 

_Crash_ was busy, since the Jam Pony group decided they needed a mid-week break. Max and OC were holding court by the pool tables, where Sketchy was trying desperately – or was just desperate – to win a game. Unfortunately, he’d been pegged by a hustler, though he didn’t realize it, and Alec winced in sympathy. He hated to see Sketch lose to a stranger, and a sleaze-bag at that. But, as Sketch was…not exactly a proud man, he was still a _man_ , and with Max, Original Cindy, and a few other girls watching him, Sketch wasn’t about to ask for help. No, he’d suffer and lose his meager earnings, because that’s what men _do._ They suck it up, no matter how badly their ass is being handed to them. 

Alec shook his head and took another sip of Scotch, wondering at some of the things humans did to impress the opposite sex. 

“Hey,” a low voice drawled to his left, and he bit back a smile. Then again, some things were done to impress the _same_ sex. It had even been known to happen to X5 transgenics on occasion. 

The familiar scent was easily identifiable, even if Logan hadn’t trailed his hand up Alec’s spine, sparking pleasant memories of last night. “Hey,” he answered, eyes still following the game, though his attention was now split. 

Max was studying the hustler with a calculated look in her eye. Possibly the same calculating look that Alec suspected he wore, only for different reasons. Alec intended to take the mark, sending the hustler back onto the street with empty pockets. Max probably figured to hand the guy his ass, once he was outside the bar with Sketchy’s money. 

Either way, the guy _wasn’t_ leaving with Sketchy’s money. Both ways were fun, no doubt, but Alec had an itch to scratch. 

“See something you like?” Logan murmured, a discreet hand sliding up Alec’s thigh, fingers tracing the inseam. 

Alec inhaled sharply, all senses buzzing from his lover’s contact. His eyes lasered in on Logan’s deep blue, and he absently licked his lips. “Yeah,” he whispered, voice husky as his gaze dropped to Logan’s mouth. “Later, though. Sketch is being taken for a ride, and not a good kind.” He nodded toward the table, where Sketch was definitely looking pale beneath the poor lighting. 

Logan clucked his tongue. “Being hustled again, is he?” 

Alec took another drink. “Yep. I’m taking the guy out once he’s done bending Sketchy over the table.”

Logan’s hand moved higher, and Alec would deny the squeak he emitted. The alcohol that sloshed over his hand, though, that was pretty obvious. He shuddered as Logan shifted closer. 

“Take the guy out,” Logan agreed, breath ghosting past Alec’s ear, “But then I want you to challenge Sketchy, and lose.” 

“What?” he spluttered, half-turning to his lover.

Logan’s eyes burned into his. “You beat the guy. Take him for all he’s got. Then you play Sketch and you let him win.” The grip tightened on his thigh and he let out a ragged breath. Logan’s gaze dropped to his mouth, and he licked his lips in anticipation, but Logan met his eyes again. “You do this for me, and I’ll do something… _nice_ …for you.” 

“Nice?” he breathed, heart hammering in his chest. He and Logan hadn’t done much by way of… _adventurous_ sex, but the teasing glint in Logan’s eyes definitely had Alec thinking that was about to change. 

“I came here to tell you I found a pool table. It’s a little worn, but still…sturdy.” 

Alec’s heart was racing, and as an X5, that was _damn_ impressive. 

Logan inched closer until his lips brushed Alec’s earlobe, his words as near to silent as the human could make them. “I want to see your face pressed against the red felt as I press into you.” 

He couldn’t help it; he groaned as his eyes slid closed. Damn Logan for knowing his buttons. Okay, so he had a _lot_ of buttons, but still. “Okay,” he breathed, both of them knowing he would have helped Sketchy regardless. 

His eyes opened, and Logan’s hand fell away. He focused inward, all attention on the game ahead. There would be time to think of _that_ game later that night at Logan’s. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

He ambled over to the tables, casually glancing at the game in progress. Sketchy was sweating and Max was glaring, but he ignored them. He relaxed against a support beam, exuding _casual_ and _daring._ He wanted the hustler to sense him, to see him as another mark, but not such an easy mark as Sketch. It was practiced, and he was damn good at it. Manticore did make him adaptable to any situation, with the quick brains to match his speed. 

When the game was all but over, he caught the hustler’s gaze and narrowed his eyes. “Play you when you’re done with him,” Alec jerked his head toward Sketchy. “A hundred bucks.” 

The hustler snorted. “You’re on. Give me a sec.” The eight ball snicked past the fourteen, landing sure into the side pocket, and collective groans filled the air as Sketch handed over his money. 

The hustler took it with a slimy grin, and Alec’s hand curled into a fist. He let the tension out, loosening himself up for the game about to be played. 

And played this guy was. Alec knew when to push, when to hold back, and when to go in for the kill. Before the hustler knew it, he was hustled out of not just one, but two hundred dollars, and slunk up the stairs as Alec grinned and slipped the money into his pocket. A hum of anticipation vibrated through him, but he still had a promise to fulfill. 

Sketchy was between Max and OC, staring morosely into his empty beer glass. Alec walked over and slung an arm around Sketchy, pulling him into a hug. “C’mon, man. Let’s play for fun.” 

“Fun? How can you think about fun? You just got all my money!” Sketch moaned, dropping his head to the table. 

“Alec,” Max growled at him. 

He shot her a warning glare and shook his head once. Her anger transformed to confusion, but he couldn’t explain. He focused back on Sketchy, shaking his arm lightly. 

“Sketch, c’mon. What have you got to lose? It’ll just be a friendly game. I’ll teach you some pointers so that this can’t happen again, all right? Come on,” he wheedled. 

Sketch lifted his head and shrugged, not appearing to care one way or the other. Alec took it as a positive sign and dragged him over to the tables. 

Alec was very careful not to look Logan’s way as he racked the balls and arranged Sketch to break. He set Sketchy’s fingers, showed him where to align the cue, and _crack_ , the break was beautiful if he did say so himself. 

Well, okay, at least one solid landed in a pocket, which was better than Sketchy had done in all the previous games Alec had watched him play. So, he guided Sketch some more, showing him how to play the angles, how to bank a shot just _so_ , and soon, the table was clear of all solids but the eight ball. 

At the beginning, Sketch had sulked, but as ball after ball dropped into pockets, his spirits raised. Alec set up the table on his shots to make it easier on Sketch, until finally, Sketch broke out of his funk.

“Max, you see that?” Sketchy cried triumphantly. “I’m about to kick Alec’s ass!” 

Max, despite herself, was fighting a smile. “Yeah, I can see that.” 

Original Cindy was smirking behind her glass. “Girl, if that boy gets any more of a swollen head, we’ll never get him through the door.” 

“Shush,” Max quieted her. 

Alec grinned at them, as Sketchy was busy lining up the last shot and hadn’t heard a word. Sketchy was _just_ drunk enough, _just_ confident enough, that his plan should work smooth as silk. 

As the eight ball slid home, Sketch let out a whoop, and Alec congratulated him. “Sketch, my man, that was awesome. I bet you could even take me, now.” 

Sketch shot him a dark look, which turned thoughtful. 

Alec kept his expression open, making himself look vulnerable. “What do you say? Do you want your money back?” 

That was all it took. “Hell, yeah,” Sketchy announced loudly, then grabbed the triangle and racked the balls again. 

Alec sighed. It was going to be harder pretending to lose as Sketch got more drunk, but he had a strong motivating factor. His eyes search for and found Logan across the bar, though he couldn’t read Logan’s eyes in the shadows. He frowned; that shouldn’t happen. He could see in the _dark_ , why couldn’t he read Logan? 

Distracted, he let Sketchy break. He gnawed on his lower lip as Sketch sent ball after ball into the pockets, wondering what was going on. Was Logan backing out? Was it all some elaborate trick to play him? Was _he_ being hustled? He was so distracted that Sketch’s shout and the accompanying cheers startled him. 

As he glanced back at the table, he saw four of his solids remained, but Sketch had cleared the stripes. Sketchy had _beat him,_ and he hadn’t noticed _._ What the fuck? 

“Too bad, so sad,” Max shrugged at him as she held out her palm. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the bills, shoving them at her as he dropped the cue onto the table and headed toward Logan. 

Logan’s eyes were still in shadow as he approached. It looked like Logan was about to say something, but Alec grabbed his head, pulled him half out of his chair and fused their mouths together, trying to _taste_ , to _feel_ what was wrong. 

Hands gentled him, running down his arms, stroking his back, until he calmed enough to release Logan’s mouth. The human was panting lightly; Alec was just confused. 

“What was that?” he asked. 

“What was what?” Logan replied, licking his swollen lips. 

Cheers were still erupting behind him, and he heard Sketch loudly proclaim that he kicked Alec’s _ass_ and would do it again, any time and any place. 

He narrowed his eyes at Logan. Studied him. Noticed the flush of his cheeks, the rapid heartbeat, the hint of a smile. “You shit,” he hissed. “You distracted me on purpose!” 

A devilish grin gave him the proof he sought, but he found himself not caring as Logan explained, “I had to give you incentive, didn’t I? I didn’t want you to forget our _bet_.” 

“It wasn’t a bet,” Alec growled, arousal spiking through him, “It was a promise.” 

Logan licked his lips again, and Alec shifted uncomfortably. “A promise I intend to keep. Unless you want to stay for Sketchy’s celebration?” 

A possessive hunger overtook Alec, and he pulled Logan to his feet roughly, bodies crushed together. “Leave. Now,” he ordered, watching as Logan’s eyes dilated. 

They could still hear the crowd chanting Sketchy’s name as they made their way upstairs in record time. 

The End


End file.
